


Waves of Sweet Fire

by drippingwithsin



Category: American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Child Neglect, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 04:09:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1536989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drippingwithsin/pseuds/drippingwithsin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How does one see whilst living in another's shadow?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waves of Sweet Fire

 

When Cordelia was just a child, the scent of liquor, cigarettes, and Chanel No.5 soothed her like a baby's blanket. Just as rough pats on the head, hugs that were just a little too tight, and a slurred "Tell me you love me, Delia" were rare moments of affection that she'd came to cherish. Her mother was her world back then just like most little girls' mothers were. Fiona Goode could do no wrong in those large innocent eyes of hers even when Cordelia witnessed, man upon man waltz through their penthouse door. They would bring her gifts, flash a dopey grin, and sometimes even ruffle her hair a bit. Looking back, Cordelia has come to the bitter realization that she was merely a human toll booth to them. A necessary payment for the real prize that lay ahead which consisted of what was between her mother's legs.

Some were not so friendly though, those were the ones she listened to with her back to the door, favorite teddy clutched to her tiny heaving chest, as they screamed at Fiona with scary booming voices. Sometimes there was the echoing of things slamming against the walls or the sound of flesh against flesh. But always, always, afterward Fiona would come in her room, to awkwardly stroke her back and tell her that uncle whoever had to leave. The fact, that the smell of pennies usually lingered within her mother's natural scent always seemed to be forgotten when those well-manicured nails gently scratched at her skin luring her into a deep sleep.

In her budding teenage years, grown men, having heard tales of her legendary promiscuous Mother flirted, puffing out their chests like proud peacocks and flashing her those nauseating cocky smiles. Thinking what everyone else assumed. Like mother, like daughter. Of course, they were wrong and she, in a rare show of bitchery would let them know. But even with the vicious refusals and threatening glares they kept coming until one late night one of her mother's young boy toys made their way into her room.

If burn marred eyelids closed, Cordelia can still feel that damp calloused palm covering her lips while the other roamed over her modest breasts and the hot moisture from his breath bathing her ear in short puffs. Luckily, though, just as he was about to descend past the point of no return she managed to wiggle free, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Mommy!" Not mother, not mama, burst from her lips that night.

In the next moment, the door flung open so roughly that the doorknob embedded into the dry-wall and in stepped Fiona with an expression that showed pure annoyance. "What is going on in here!" Her eyes darted between them fully drinking in the scene and Cordelia could only imagine what she must see; her daughter's tear-soaked face and mussed nightgown while a man, her current boyfriend, sat hovering over her with his hands a little too close. In an instant, the agitation melted away and Fiona's face goes completely blank.

He opened and closed his mouth like a guppy."Baby I-" And just like that an internal switch was turned back on, amber irises blazed in fury, Fiona flicked her wrist, magic tingling for a moment just before horror twisted the man's handsome features as an invisible force ripped him away until his body slammed into the nearby wall with a sickening crack.

From her position, Cordelia watched unblinking at the scene before her that night in a mixture of terror and dare she say, satisfaction when blood trickled from the man's tear ducts.

 _"You perverted sack of shit!"_  The overall power that filled that room was intoxicating, crackling within the air like pop rocks, it brought forth goosepimples across alabaster flesh. The bleeding progressed to crimson rivers rolling down cheeks, dripping onto his shirt, soaking the fabric staining it black.

He slid bonelessly to the floor below with eyes glazed, skin grey, and mouth agape with blood bubbling from the side. Dead. He was dead. Chest heaving, Fiona turned to Cordelia's  _"This is your fault!"_  She snarled pointing towards the corpse.  _"Now, help me clean up this mess."_ As those venomous words pierced her ears, a little piece of Cordelia died that night.

It was two days after the incident that Fiona announced that she was being sent away.

When she arrived at the academy she used to pretend not to notice the whispers, the taunts, the pitying expressions both in plain sight and behind her back because after all wasn't it what the daughter of a whore deserved. Or so she was told; repeatedly and hatefully. Supreme Whore is what they called Fiona. In the beginning, she defended her mother like any good daughter would have, but after a period of missed birthdays and holidays, she began to just tune them out or even agree with them.

Now that she is a woman, a married woman the whispers have all but ceased and here was her chance to be the greatest mother Fiona would ever dream to be. But fate oh fate can be a cruel mistress; for six months after they were married she found out she was barren. At first, she laughed bitterly in the doctor's face then when alone at the academy she wept, crying large tears over losing the child she'll never bare.

Her mother appeared within the greenhouse days later like she hadn't been gone for the last five years. Her presence within the academy was a black hole, literally siphoning the very life from Cordelia. From that moment onward it all went downhill.

The authorities showed up the following morning wanting to question two of her students about a bus flipping. She played dumb of course, trying to deter their suspicions by mentioning the girls' ages. They kept onward, too seasoned to be fooled by just words. She was beginning to panic and so were the girls. Zoe, the poor soul looked like a deer caught in the headlights, spilled everything at once blaming the whole event on Madison. Cordelia didn't doubt the girl, she knew how Madison was, headstrong and bitchy she set Cordelia's teeth on edge. The girl was just too much like Fiona for her liking.

Not long after Zoe's confession, the atmosphere suddenly thickened, her mother had returned and she was angry. Very angry. Cordelia had to bite the inside of her jaw to keep from gasping at the sheer amount of magic pulsating within that room.

Both men's eyes darted over to lock onto Fiona. _"Are you in charge here?"_ One questioned. She remembered thinking at the time. Idiot. You would have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to not feel the power radiating from the older woman in continuous waves.

 _"I'm Fiona Goode I'm in charge everywhere."_ The older woman quipped and oh _,_  they found out just how right her mother was when that glass of 'magical spit water' was shoved to their lips.

* * *

Hank arrived the next day and once again they try to conceive, this time with magic but even with it's help, nothing, her womb remains barren so out of desperation she sought out the aid of the coven witches' sworn enemy Marie Laveau whom literally laughed in her face. Yes, tears fell but she wasn't surprised by the denial, however, she was surprised that her mother had been there before.

Soon after that, she's awoken during the middle of the night by Fiona. Someone or something attacked one of their own brutally and sexually the girl nearly died if it wouldn't have been for her mother. However, the following morning the council arrived questioning, blaming, pointing fingers mainly towards Fiona.

First for the attack then for the mysterious disappearance of Madison whom Cordelia was ashamed to admit just now noticed was gone. But with no proof, no witnesses of foul play her mother merely walked away scotch free leaving behind Auntie Myrtle stewing in a long-brewing rage.

* * *

That night, they went out for drinks, chatting about this and that, giving the illusion of a normal mother/daughter relationship. Fiona, of course, tried to use the situation to her advantage, asking if she knew who the next Supreme was. Cordelia hadn't a clue herself but then choose not to let Fiona know that. Let the old bitch run in circles it might to some degree amuse her. Oh, but karma must have heard those hateful plans. Or was it fate once again? For her stomach turned and churned pushing her towards the bathroom then pain so much pain from just a tiny splash of liquid. It seared through unprotected retinas leaving her blind and defenseless like a newborn kitten but unleashed a powerful gift that most would call a curse.

Hank; the name brings bile scorching up her throat just at the mention of it, cheated on her. And for what reason it is unknown. Frankly, she didn't want to know, she just wanted him gone and away from her, lest some of Auntie Myrtle's potion find its way into his mid-morning protein shake.

Oh, Auntie Myrtle, burned at the stake for absolutely nothing. The woman deserved so much better than that. Why did her mother do that? Cordelia knew Fiona held a jealous grudge against the eccentric woman but to have her burned. The girls told her it was because Myrtle was the one who threw acid into her eyes. She couldn't; wouldn't believe that. That wasn't the woman whom took her in, taught her the arts, loved her, held her when things got rough. The vision of her aunt being engulfed in flames, screaming in agonizing pain is forever etched in her mind.

However, the period of grief was all but cut short when she recklessly attempted to descend the stairs on her own only to have a hand grasp her forearm. Flashes of a gleaming letter opener, Fiona, and Madison wrestling back and forth then blood. So much blood, coursing through her mind nearly bringing her to bended knees. Her mother murdered Madison. And after all that she did for her. Taking up for her when the council questioned about the girl's disappearance. Even defending her against Auntie Myrtle.

The rage she felt that night was nearly overwhelming it was then drowning in anger she came to a conclusion; that for the good of coven. For the protection of these girls. Fiona Goode, her mother, had to die. Multiple scenarios flooded her mind on just how to go about it. From strangling to poisoning she weighed the pros and cons of each until finally, she rallied what was left of the coven and the planning commenced. While they schemed her demise, Fiona called her to the side.

 _"The doctors say it's terminal."_ Fiona was dying. She was actually dying. Despite hoping to hear those words for years, Cordelia couldn't help but feel a slight pang of sorrow.

So subtly as possible, she swallowed hard against the tightness and steeled herself against the onslaught of unwelcome emotions. "Do me a favor, die before Thanksgiving so none of us has to suffer through that mess of raisins and styrofoam you call stuffing." Feigning calmness she walked away from Fiona and ascended the stairs in a zombie-like state, but once across the threshold to her bedroom the emotional dam finally broke free, rolling down the sides of her face in blazed bitter paths. It wasn't fair. Nothing was ever fair.

The little girl within wept for her mother she while the grown woman wept for the little girl.

* * *

That night, their carefully thought out the execution was turned upside down by a pounding at the door. It was the girl, that poor young witch who was burned at the stake was standing within the academy walls very much alive and healthy but with a fear in her voice sat Cordelia's nerves on edge. Even though unsure herself, she reassures the girl that she is safe and among friends.

The girl was satisfied momentary and mentioned a friend of sorts. Puzzled, she questioned Misty only to have the girl grasp her hand and lead her to the greenhouse, once there an all too familiar raspy voice sounds and joy exploded within. Auntie Myrtle was alive and well, wrenched from death's clutches by the innocent swamp witch, Misty Day. Of course, though, she could tell by the roughness of Myrtle's voice and the feel of rough, saggy, skin that the process was incomplete but Cordelia didn't care she had her Auntie Myrtle back. The entire coven was now complete.

She told Myrtle about their idea only to have it dismissed as being too mundane and dangerous. No, what the former council member had in mind far more brilliant, the plan revolved around a three hundred-year-old ritual designed to transfer the old Supreme's power into the new by means of murder or the elder's selfless sacrifice. Cordelia all but scoffed at the latter. Fiona was the most selfish person she's ever known. Hell, the older woman would barter her only child's life if it meant just a couple more minutes on this earth, everyone knew that, that's why it came as such a shock to Cordelia when Myrtle of all people was thoroughly convinced that she could swede Fiona into killing herself for the good of the coven.

They decided though, that even if they all suspected Misty Day as being the next Supreme that they would lead Fiona to believe it was still Madison. So the next morning they sent the blonde actress up there, not to do anything mind you but to mainly just to ruffle Fiona's feathers a bit. When done, she came down pink lips tugged upward into that God awful smirk boosting about how "The bitch was on her last leg."

Then it was Myrtle's turn, when she came back down, however, she merely announced that a new Supreme would arise very soon.

Upon hearing those words, the entire coven gathered within the piano room and waited with bated breath, for the old Supreme to die. It was morbid, yes but Cordelia convinced herself through a bit of soul searching that this was for the best. Her mother was finally putting something ahead of herself for a change.

Myrtle played a haunting melody on the piano while the girls' youthful curiosity got the better of them and they began to question about the first signs of becoming the next Supreme.

 _"For me, it started as a classic migraine."_  An all too familiar voice sounded from the entrance causing everybody's head to snap around and there was Fiona in all her lively glory, standing there with that sickening smile spread across her lips listing off the rest of the symptoms like anybody gave a damn anymore. That's when they all heard it, the distinctive wile of a siren nearby, next door to be exact. Also, it was at that moment they girls realize one of their own was missing.

The sweet young boy and his awful mother next door were shot but luckily, by some miracle, Nan's life was spared. Cordelia was just checking on the girl when a silver bullet called to her from the nearby bushes. As soon as she picks it up a cold wave washed over the headmistress; witch hunters. Witch hunters were near. Oh, she'd heard tales from older witches and Fiona about them. They killed without mercy not caring how old or frail as long as you were a witch it was fair game.

Those words she longed to hear her entire life felt dirty given the circumstances. Fiona was proud of her and for all things; making an attempt on her life. Hell, if she knew that was what all it would have taken she would have tried it a long time ago. She thought and even told Fiona those exact words but on the other hand, she had to admit that as of right now they needed her mother if the coven was to survive.

A couple of days later, Marie Laveau shows up one night and the next morning she informed them of the news. Hank was a witch hunter hired by Marie to exterminate them all, not only that Queenie one of her students was dead. She felt sick. He'd used her from the beginning.

She had barely a minute to digest the full betrayal before Fiona's hand came down slapping her across the cheek, sending her tumbling from the chair to the cold linoleum below. The words spat next were pure venom, the gaze cast down at her was one of rage. It was only because of Marie's presence that she didn't curl into a tight ball and beg for her mother to stop instead though she let the voodoo queen help her up. Her cheek on fire, side and shoulder throbbing she sat in the chair in shock. Fiona although hateful at times had never ever before hit her like that. Yes, she'd slung her against walls a time or two yes, but she'd never reacted so physically.

Of course, though, Cordelia is stubborn one and later on that day she attempted to aid once more only to receive an _"You're worthless! Hopeless! Get out of my sight!"_ Fiona's words cut deep jagged wounds more painfully than any weapon could inflict. Not knowing what to do, she flees with metaphorical tail tucked between her legs, instinctively going to the one place where she felt the safest. The greenhouse. There, her emotions are unleashed, fear, anger, sadness all spilled forth in one enormous unstoppable outburst. She threw items, smashing beakers and flower pots. Even, Auntie Myrtle for once wasn't a comfort mentioning only that she should work on as a hostess on a cruise ship. Fiona was right she was useless, wrapped up in her own little world that consisted of potions and powders.

Something must be done or she was going to slip into the background once again lost and unheard. No, she would not have it so mustering what courage she possessed a decision was made. In order to see she had to be blind. Later onward, however, she found out that the acid was nothing compared to squiring oneself in the eye. Mainly because with the liquid, it happened all at once but when doing it to yourself, you actually see the object heading towards your eyeball. Also, there is the fact that it has to be done twice.

Her mother doesn't dare visit her afterward, she supposed then that fear was what kept the woman at bay. Fear of the horrifying truths that would've been revealed from a mere touch.

She hears a masculine voice bellow its familiarity sent dread surging through her body. In a house full of witches, he didn't make it far before a loud thud echoed. She crouches down touching the sticky wetness upon the floor and gasps when her mother's name is whispered in her ear. Fiona was dead. She walked over to him, needing more detail, she places a hand on each temple.

Flashes of Fiona and the Axeman speaking, him locating a hidden plane ticket within her purse, a violate struggle, Fiona speaking only to be cut off mid-sentence by an ax to the back but it was the next scene that brought vomit scorching up her throat, he fed her mother in pieces to the alligators. She buried her face in the comforting softness of her Auntie Myrtle's red hair and wept for a moment before reigning in her emotions. After all, it was not the time to grieve they had to plan.

The Seven Wonders. The tests to end all tests, she herself has never seen it be performed but she'd heard/read about it. So gathered around her mother's portrait, she lets the girls know beforehand to be prepared. For everything they've learned and been through had all boiled down to this.

That night though despite the composure that's shown before, Cordelia slept curled within the confines of her mother's thousand count sheets and an expensive duvet with the lingering scent of Chanel luring Cordelia into a deep dreamless slumber.

* * *

**Present Day**

Feminine screams of pure terror and agony pierce through the air like butcher knives followed by the sickening sounds of flesh being impaled, liquid splattering against a surface, the thudding of large objects hitting the hardwood floor echo within her ears.

"Girls! What's happening!? Girls!?" She frantically calls out. And for the first time since she's blinded herself, Cordelia curses herself for being so stupid. For now, all she could do nothing but stand there helpless and afraid, until the sounds cease all together only to be replaced by the clicking of heels drawing nearer, each step pierces through the air, it takes all her willpower not to cower.

Of course she can not see Fiona, but she can sense her presence, smell that all so familiar scent that at rare times brought comfort and other more often times brought dread. Feel that overwhelming power of renewed magic pulsate around her and knows that whoever the supreme was is dead now. Cold steel presses to her forehead and she knows without question that it's gun. Her heart bottoms out. This is it. This is what it has come down to. All those goals never to be reached, questions unanswered. Never will she see again nor the love of a child. "Fiona, please." She couldn't help but to beg. Unseeing eyes well, she lowers herself onto bended knees and unnecessarily closes her eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

"Tell me you love me, Delia." The whiskey-laced voice startles her, nearly making her fall forward.

"No." She whispers wincing at just how pathetic her voice sounds. The warming steel presses harder against her skull and then she hears it; the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. Her heart jolts, stomach flops, she's now on the very edge of fainting with nothing to catch her.

"I-I.." Scenes flash through her mind of one-sided arguments, tears of anguish, the agonizing longing that constantly ate away at her gut each and every time she looked at her mother over the years. She wants to scream, holler, throw things at Fiona just to get her to see the pure hatred that consumes her. Pain falls from her eyes, leaving behind depressing silvery trails down pale cheeks, she clears her thickening throat."love you." She says it out of fear and because deep down underneath all the hatred, all the hurt, it's true. That, she for some unknown reason loves her mother. The silence that follows is nearly deafening, only being broken by the pounding of a heart and the rushing of blood within Cordelia's ears.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. "Please!" She pleads once more, tears flowing down her cheeks in miniature rivers."Please, Mama. Don't." God, how many times had those words been used over the years.

A snort and finally the gun is removed but despite its absence, Cordelia still feels far from safe because she knows Fiona is there looming over her, watching in satisfaction as she trembles and squirms with those predatory amber eyes.

Hot breath tickles her ear, jolting the younger blonde. "I want you to leave this place and never return. You understand?" There's a hidden threat within that demand that Cordelia hear all too clearly Not trusting her voice, she merely nods. Suddenly there is soft lips pressing where once cold steel laid and just as soon as they were there The tapping of heels begins again until they're at the entryway then they halt once more.

"Oh, and, 'Delia, I'll be watching." The door slips shut with a sharp click and silence once again falls over the room, suffocating, ravenous, it's demanding tendrils curl wrapping tightly around her.

She is alone. Truly, completely, alone.

Hands clench into fists at her sides, Cordelia tilts her head back screaming towards the heavens with tears rolling down flushed cheeks. She's lost everything. Her husband, aunt, students, the coven. Every single thing she's built her life around is gone. Vanished never to return. When she finally stops her throat is raw aching for all the anguish that's passed through it. She falls, not even bothering to cushion the descent and curls into a tight ball sobbing.

"Ms. 'Delia?" A raspy Cajun voice calls to her just when a hand grasps her shoulder, giving it a gentle shake. The lingering scent of her mother is suddenly overpowered by a floral and earthy aroma that could only come from one person.

"Misty?" She croaks, wincing at the burning pain in her throat.

She feels herself being gently lifted into the sitting position. "Yeah, are you okay?" The girl confirms her voice a little clearer now.

Wanting to keep her words to a minimal, she merely nods. "The others?"

"Dead." Came the grim reply she half expected.

"Ho..how did you?"

The girl shrugs even though the older woman couldn't see her. "Kinda hard to kill someone who can't die."

That's right the girl had the power of resurgence nevertheless they needed to hurry if Fiona found out that Misty was alive she would no doubt try again. "Help me up." She feels herself being pulled upward onto two unsteady feet and a grip on each hip, steadying her. "We have to leave this place. I don't know when she'll be back."

"Where we gonna go Ms. 'Delia? I mean I don't know if my shack is still there or not."

Cordelia gives her a reassuring pat. "My grandmother left me a house in Mississippi. Not too far from New Orleans and my;" She swallows the term of endearment down along with the lump forming there. "And Fiona doesn't know about it."

"What do we do 'bout the house?" Cordelia froze a moment before letting out a ragged breath. This place held so many memories, some fond others horrifying, but the scent of blood and death has forever tainted these sacred walls.

Decision made, her face hardens. "Burn it."


End file.
